


Help Me

by thenakednymph



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: I have no idea how to summarize this, M/M, No I don't care, Sex Pollen, have some porn, klance, no I don't bother to explain how Keith got roofied, this is so self indulgent oh my god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 22:30:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19186630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: Keith has been hiding in his room since his last mission with Shiro and Lance is worried. He gets a little more than he bargained for when he goes to check on him.~This is just sex pollen.





	Help Me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm drunk. Have some sex pollen. With a side of angst.

The longer Lance stands outside the door listening the more outlandish his worries become. If he walks away he’s never going to be able to stop worrying. So he bites the bullet, hopes Keith isn’t going to kill him for invading his privacy, and opens the door.

As soon as it opens a slice of light from the hall spills into the darkened interior of Keith’s room, the very edge of it fuzzing along the tangle of blankets on the bed.

It takes Lance’s eyes a moment to adjust during which Keith whines, shifting away from the light, an indistinguishable lump in the dark. 

Lance steps into the room, letting the door shut behind him. 

“Keith?”

There’s another strangled noise and Lance sees Keith, sweating and flushed and in pain, twisting across the mattress, sweat glistening over his bare chest. He looks like he’s struggling to breathe.

“Jesus.” Lance hurries over, sitting on the bed and pressing his hand to Keith’s forehead, checking for a fever, eyebrows furrowed with worry. 

The pain flares, hot and bright in the moment before Lance touches him and Keith’s eyes snap open, the breath driven from his lungs; and then pleasure ripples through him, resonating from where Lance’s hand is on him. His eyes roll back in his head as the pain sharpens into desire, sending a flash of heat to his groin. 

Keith shudders so violently his body arches off the bed, chasing the relief of Lance’s hand as he snatches it back, startled.

Keith grinds his teeth as he falls back to the mattress. He squeezes his eyes shut as he forces his fingers to curl into the bed to keep from reaching for Lance, reaching for  _ more _ . 

“Have...to leave,” he grits out, his chest heaving as the pain sets back in, twice as sharp and it’s like laying on shattered glass. Every nerve is exposed and too bright, the blanket under him flaying the skin from his back. 

“Please,” he whines, voice pitching high at the end and he doesn’t know what he’s begging for, Lance to leave him in misery or to touch him again and chase it away. He’s terrified of the answer. 

Lance is staring down at him in open mouthed surprise as Keith squirms, trying to relieve the pain. 

“What the hell is happening?” Lance’s voice trembles and his hand hovers in the air above Keith, scared and confused. 

“Just go,” Keith whines again, body arching off the mattress, digging his heels in, hips seeking friction, fingers curled painfully tight in the blanket. It feels like needles under his nails but he can’t let go. Doesn’t know what he’ll do if he does. 

“I’m taking you to the medbay.” Lance shakes his head, reaching for him. “This can’t-”

The minute Lance’s hands touch Keith he screams, face twisting into something as erotic as the sound he’s just made and Lance is so startled he yanks his hands back, face bright red. A strangled sob tears out of Keith as pain flashes to pleasure and back again so violently he sees stars and he sobs. Tears slide down his temples, the wretched back and forth of pleasure and pain killing him. 

“Please,” he begs, curling into his side and whining, moving closer to Lance who all but leaps off the bed as he does. Keith’s eyes are squeezed shut, fingers working into the sheet to keep them there as he weaves a broken litany with his lips. 

“Please...please, pleaseplease _ please _ ,” he gasps, hot and breathless, his flushed cheek brushing against the sheet, damp with sweat. It feels like grinding his skin against sandpaper. 

“God please just  _ touch me _ ,” he begs, wanting to drag Lance back onto the bed again but he’s out of reach. Lance swallows thickly, dry throat clicking. 

“I-I can’t.” 

Lance doesn’t know if the sound Keith makes is a whine or a cry as he curls more tightly around himself, trying to relieve the ball of barbed wire he seems to have swallowed. 

“Please.” The desperate, pained sound he makes and the way he says it brings Lance to his knees, weak with want and he has to resist the urge to reach out and touch Keith on instinct, to comfort. 

“I can’t.” He chokes on the words because he wants to, his heart reaching for Keith. Stars he’s never wanted anything more but he can’t. It’s wrong. He doesn’t know what’s happened but he knows Keith isn’t in his right mind, wouldn’t want this if he was. And he hates himself for wanting to anyway. 

“Hurts,” Keith groans, face warped with pain as he squirms. He opens his eyes and they’re hazy, glassed and distant. “H-helps.” 

Lance clenches his fingers in his lap. “Keith I can’t. I can get one of the others but-”

Keith’s whine cuts him off. “Don’t- want the others.” He pants into the mattress, arms shaking as he shakes his head, dark hair a tangled mess. “Want  _ you _ .” And that undoes Lance. “Want you, want youwant _ you _ .” He’s gasping the words on nothing more than a breath, broken and rapid like a prayer. 

Tears prick at Lance’s eyes. “I want you too.” Keith’s eyes blink open and his chest shudders. “Don’t you understand? That’s why I  _ can’t. _ ” He shakes his head vehemently but can’t find the strength to stand. 

Keith uncurls aching fingers and reaches for Lance, every muscle in his arm protesting at the movement. Lance flinches when Keith touches him, fingers on his cheek, a breathy little sound of relief escaping him and he presses his palm flush to Lance’s skin. 

“Please...h-help-”

Lance covers Keith’s hand slowly with his own and the pain in his joints sparks, easing into starlight and Keith chases it, scrambling out of bed and straight into Lance’s lap before he can jerk away, plastering himself against Lance, curling tight around him. 

He moans into Lance’s ear, arms wrapped around him, kneeling on the floor, straddling Lance, his erection pressed firmly against the other boy’s stomach. He rolls his hips, chasing pressure and friction and heat, sealing his lips to Lance’s throat, pressing his tongue over sweet skin and Lance is too overwhelmed to move. 

Keith’s fingers curl in Lance’s hair, wrenching his head back as he sucks bruise after bruise into his throat, hips still moving and Lance is weak under him, shuddering apart with every breath.

His hands are hovering in the air to either side of him and Keith pants against his neck, a bead of sweat racing down his spine. 

“Touch me,” he begs, rocking down into Lance’s lap where he’s gone hard embarrassingly quickly, making him groan. “Touch me.” Keith groans the words into Lance’s skin, nearly crying in frustration as Lance’s hands settle on his hips and not bare skin. 

“No…”

Keith snatches his wrist, face still tucked against Lance’s throat, yanking it up to his bare waist, pressing it flat against his ribs, the pleasure that washes over him at the contact finally making him lift his head and he tips it back with a gasp, eyes slipping shut. 

“Here,” he gasps, still rocking in Lance’s lap. “Harder- skin-” The words are broken and disjointed, Keith’s mind a hazy mess of fragmented thoughts and sensations, drowning under the heady combination of pleasure and pain. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Lance whispers, high and breathless but presses both hands flat to either side of Keith’s spine and he makes another one of those beautiful terrible cries that has Lance twitching against him, burying his face against Keith’s throat. 

He runs a palm up Keith’s back to his shoulder, his touch firm and grounding, the other tangling in the material of Keith’s jeans at his hip, dragging him down as Lance’s hips roll up, holding Keith where he wants him. 

Keith’s head is tipped back to the ceiling, a wide grin on his face, eyes shut as Lance rocks against him. 

He grabs both of Keith’s hips, dragging him against him, spreading his knees to grind Keith’s ass against his aching cock. 

Keith’s hands flutter between Lance’s coat and his own jeans, whining at the loss of direct skin to skin contact. 

“M-more,” he stutters, hands finally settling on dragging off Lance’s jacket, pulling at the hem of his shirt. 

“Need more.” 

Lance kisses his bare chest and then up his throat, and Keith whines as Lance’s hands slide back up over his waist, giving him what he wants. Lance pulls out of his shirt and jacket one arm at a time, always keeping one hand on Keith until he can press their bare chests together. Keith’s arms twine right around him, his whole body rolling, stroking their sweaty skin together.

“Fuck me,” he gasps, right in Lance’s ear and Lance’s fingers curl, dragging red marks over his back that make him scream again. 

“Want you to- Lance.” His head drops to Lance’s shoulders, hands running all over his sweat-slicked back and shoulders. Keith’s skin is searing. 

“No.” Lance shakes his head, hair sticking to his forehead. He licks at a bead of sweat and Keith’s body spasms against him.

“I’ll touch you Keith but I won’t do that.”

“Why?” he begs and Lance trembles under the force of Keith’s voice so weak and needy. He reaches up, cupping Keith’s cheek, forcing him to look at him.

“Because I want to,” he whispers. “God you have no idea how badly I want that.” Keith presses into Lance’s hand, hungry for the contact. “But you’re not here.” His thumb swipes gently over soft skin, brushing the corner of Keith’s mouth and his tongue flicks out, trying to catch it. 

Tears burn behind Lance’s eyes. “You’re not here and I want you to be.” 

Keith either can’t form a coherent response or doesn’t bother, he just whines, high and pitiful and Lance can feel his hands shake against his back. 

“Then touch me,” he begs. “Please. Please don’t stop.” His voice has gone high and breathless. “Need it. It hurts.” The whine turns desperate. “Almost there,” he gasps. “Need you, need-” Another whine interrupts the flow of words spilling out of him as Lance palms his ass, dragging his lips over Keith’s throat, reaching down to flick open the button on his jeans. He shoves them down over his ass and freeing Keith’s cock. He can feel it twitch against his stomach and Keith whines, arching forward, seeking contact. 

When Lance wraps his fingers around him Keith screams again, stars bursting behind his eyes, lips parting as he thrusts his hips into Lance’s hand. 

Lance’s strokes are intermittent, long and slow and then shallow and fast over the head, breaking Keith apart piece by piece. Lance keeps his face pressed to Keith’s skin, trying not to look, to offer Keith at least that, some small sense of privacy as much as it’s to hide how ashamed he is that he’s doing this. The guilt over searching out his own selfish pleasure over doing what he can to help is going to eat him alive. Instead he focuses on trying to listen, to help, to chase away whatever pain has settled into Keith however he can.

It doesn’t take much for Keith to cum, a second before he does, sinking his teeth into Lance’s throat, making him shout, how own orgasm hitting Lance in surprise. His grip tightens reflexively around Keith, making them both shudder as Keith spills over his hand, Lance into his own jeans. 

Keith goes limp against him a moment later, the pain burning away as the pleasure fades and if it weren’t for the solid weight of Lance against him he’d have fallen. 

It takes him a long time to come down. When he does Lance is hiding his face in Keith’s shoulder, burning with shame and self-loathing. It twists with the afterglow of his orgasm and Lance hates himself, tears pricking his eyes as he feels Keith’s steady, hands on his shoulders. 

“Please don’t hate me.” Lance’s voice comes out so small and scared, terrified of what he’s done. 

Keith is still leaning heavily against him, sweat and cum sliding between them as he pants, their naked torsos touching with every breath. 

“Thank you,” he gasps, one hand pressing to the side of Lance’s throat as he sighs in relief, the last vestiges of the pain rippling away from him as the fire leaves his brain.

It takes him a moment to steady his breathing and then he sits back, lifting Lance’s face with both hands, stroking the hair away from his eyes. Lance’s cheeks are hot and he won’t lift his eyes. 

“Lance, look at me.”

Lance’s expression warps, fingers curling against the floor where they’ve fallen but he doesn’t look up. 

“Please.”

Lance’s eyes finally meet his, thick with guilt. When he blinks, a tear slips free and Keith rubs it away. 

“Please stop hating yourself,” he whispers, eyes moving over Lance’s face. “I’m glad it was you.” Lance flinches and tries to duck his head but Keith won’t let him. “I don’t know what happened but I don’t want it to have been anyone but you.” He ducks his head, trying to get Lance to look at him again. “Now or ever.” More tears slip free, wetting Keith’s fingers. 

“Thank you,” Keith says again. “You didn’t hurt me.” Lance squeezes his eyes shut, unable to look at him. 

“Not- how I wanted that to happen,” he finally says, and his cheeks heat with shame. 

Keith is still cradling his head in his hands. “Me neither.” 

Lance lifts his head, eyes clearing with surprise. 

“You-?”

Keith nods. “Yeah. I just- didn’t know how to tell you.” His thumb moves gently, stroking over Lance’s cheek. “You didn’t hurt me,” he reiterates softly. 

Lance’s hand shakes as he reaches up, touching a finger to Keith’s cheek and he tips his head into it, eyes fluttering shut briefly. 

“You’re not mad at me?” Lance whispers and Keith lets out a weak laugh. 

“Do I look mad?”

“Considering you’re still sitting in my lap with your cock out, no.” 

Keith snorts and startles Lance with a kiss, shutting him up. Lance makes a little noise of surprise before letting his other hand slip around Keith’s waist, smearing cum everywhere. Keith makes a face but doesn’t stop kissing him.

Keith slides a hand over Lance’s throat before pulling away. “Next time can you actually fuck me though?” he says and Lance groans, his grip on Keith tightening. 

“God yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me on Tumblr if ya want.   
> freyamaat.tumblr.com


End file.
